


play along & catch a cold

by polly_perks



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Drabble, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e13 Deja Q, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 11:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14354589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polly_perks/pseuds/polly_perks
Summary: Q lets a human instinct take over.





	play along & catch a cold

**Author's Note:**

> anyone interested in qcard is legally obligated to make something set during deja q, so here's mine
> 
> EDIT: changed the title to a lyric from regina spektor's "ne me quitte pas" to fit more with my general aesthetic and also because that's a very fun song to listen to while thinking about qcard

Picard yanked his wrist out of Q’s grasp, then whirled around as though he expected him to appear over his other shoulder. Q was still standing exactly where he had been, fingers outstretched and an ironic smile on his face.

“I’m still right here,” he quipped.

“If you truly haven’t lost your powers, you’re doing a very good job at pretending you have.”

Q rolled his eyes, something he’d made a habit of doing even in his omnipotence, but his next words weren’t dripping with the sarcasm that Picard had come to expect.

“Why thank you, Jean-Luc. I’ve always considered myself something of an actor.” He hated how Q used his first name, especially in front of the rest of the crew, as though Q knew him well enough from the few fraught encounters they’d had, as though they were _friends_.

He snapped, “Don’t call me that” almost as the last thought had occurred to him. _In all the universe, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend._

“What, your name?” Either Q was being purposefully obtuse or he really _did_ consider them friends in some way. Picard had to wonder how much he actually knew about humans if _this_ was his idea of friendship.

“My _first_ name. You’ve earned the right to call me a friend about as much as you’ve earned the right to wear that uniform you always show up in.” And at this, Q sighed in that performative way he always did when he was bemoaning Picard’s lack of evolved thinking.

“‘Earned,’ what a human concept. To deny someone a certain color of fabric or a lump of metal just because they haven’t passed your arbitrary standards of what’s been ‘earned.’ If you people knew the kinds of things I--”

“Yes, yes, even in this form your mental superiority surpasses my wildest imagination, forgive me if I don’t care to hear this speech again. I’ve got to get back to the bridge now, so if you’ll excuse me--”

“Jean-Luc, wait.” Q's hand was once again on Picard’s wrist, and against his better judgement, he did.

Glancing down at Q’s hand, sliding down towards his palm, he was once again confronted with how _touchy_ he was in this form. Previously Q had chosen to stand behind him, too close for comfort but never close enough to feel. Ever since he’d been dumped naked on the bridge of the Enterprise, it had been different: ostentatiously linking arms with Data when the android led him out of the brig, sweeping a hand across Beverly’s shoulder when she dismissed him from sickbay. And now this.

“What is it now?” He tried to keep any concern out of his voice, for he sensed that Q would somehow latch onto it and never let him live it down.

For a moment, Q looked...open. Like he wasn’t thinking about how his body was supposed to be arranged to communicate maximum confidence and ease, so his shoulders were slumped and everything else was still. But it was only there for a moment; he regained himself by drawing his free hand up to his chin and quirking an eyebrow in an exaggeration of thoughtfulness.

“Sure there aren’t any of those handsome uniforms left over for me?”

And at this final realization that any genuine feeling on Q’s part had been his own projection, Picard gave up. In one fluid motion, he snatched his hand back and used it to push Q against the wall next to the door, hoping it would give him an extra moment to escape.

“No, there aren’t. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to--”

“I’ve just had the most disturbing urge,” Q said, slightly breathless, almost to himself. Before Picard could even begin to ask what he meant by that, Q bent down and kissed him.

He didn’t have time to close his eyes and Q clearly wasn’t aware that he was supposed to, so they ended up staring at each other as it happened. From so close Picard could see that Q had laugh lines at the corners of his eyes even though his eyebrows were wrinkled together at the moment. There was no buzz of energy beneath Q's skin, and no flash of light transported them to a quaint romantic countryside; in short, it felt like kissing any other man. As soon as Picard moved to close his eyes and kiss back, Q pulled away, face still scrunched up as though he’d just swallowed one of Data’s silicone concoctions.

“What the hell was that,” Picard said, unable to get his voice much louder than a wheeze. He didn’t move, towards Q or away from him. 

“You tell me,” Q replied, voice now at a normal volume with nothing to indicate that anything unusual had happened. “You’re the expert on humanity.” Aside from a momentary twitch at the corner of his mouth, Q made no indication that he was kidding. If it was just a joke, he really _was_ a damn good actor.

“You can’t--I mean, surely you must know--” The doorbell to the ready room cut his ramblings short, and he leapt on the escape route immediately.

“Captain, I was wondering--”

He was already rushing past Troi, shouting “We’ll discuss it later, Counsellor!” over his shoulder as he made a beeline for the turbolift. For her part, all she felt before he disappeared was a steady thrum of excitement knotted through with confusion and conflict.

When she saw the other person in the ready room, a clearer picture started to form.

“You seem happy, Q.”

“Your Betazoid powers must not be as strong as you think. How could I be happy about any of _this_?” He gestured vaguely to himself, to the room at large, to her. But his newly-formed emotional consciousness told her otherwise, as there was a thrill cutting through all the fear and despair and confusion she’d felt from him already.

“I think you just got something you’ve wanted for a very long time.” And for the first time in all she’d known him, Q said nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> i only just discovered tng but i've burned my way through all of it in less than a month, so this will almost definitely not be my last fic


End file.
